


The River's Daughter

by DKNC



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/pseuds/DKNC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the Game of Ships Golden Ships fairytale prompt.</p><p>A retelling of The Little Mermaid. Catelyn was a dutiful daughter who obeyed her father in everything EXCEPT staying away from the shore of the river to watch the people. That's how she came to see Brandon Stark one day . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	The River's Daughter

The river was home. Its waters had sheltered and nourished her family since long before the people of the land had come and named it Trident in their language. She loved the river. She truly did, but she couldn’t help being curious about the people who walked about sometimes on its banks, those people with no tails who never ventured beyond the shallows. She wasn’t allowed in the shallows, of course, but that didn’t keep her from going there. She’d swim up from the depths to feel the sun on her face as she broke through the surface. She was careful. She’d never been seen.

“Catelyn!” Her sister’s voice hissed in irritation. “We’ve come too far. Father will lock us both up if he finds out we came this way! We‘re almost to where the humans cross on those big animals”

“Horses,” Catelyn said absently. “They’re called horses. You’d know that if you paid attention.”

Lysa shook her head. “We aren’t supposed to be paying attention. We’re not suppose to get close enough to hear them.”

“Shh,” Catelyn told her sister. “Look!”

Several men on horses had appeared on the bank of the river. One of them laughed, and Catelyn looked up at his face. He had dark hair and grey eyes which were alight with amusement at something. She thought him the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and could not take her eyes off him as he dismounted and walked close to the edge of the river. He was taller than the other other men and had strong arms, and she wondered what it would feel like to have those arms around her.

“Cat!” another voice hissed at her, and she turned just as little Petyr grabbed her and pulled her back. “You almost let him see you!” the boy said, scandalized.

“I did not,” she protested, but she knew a part of her wanted this beautiful man to see her. She allowed Petyr and Lysa to pull her back away from the bank, but continued to watch the men as they looked carefully at the waters before mounting up again.

“The current’s very fast today, but I think we can make it,” the tall, handsome one said, and they mounted back up, preparing to cross the river.

As they urged their horses into the rapidly flowing water, several of the men looked frightened, but not the tall grey-eyed one. “Look at him, Lysa,” Catelyn whispered to her sister. “He’s so brave. I think I could love a man like that.”

She didn’t see the dark look of fury that appeared on Petyr’s face, but she saw the rock that suddenly flew at the man’s horse, striking its flank and causing it to rear. In a matter of seconds, the man had been tossed from his saddle into the churning waters of the river.

Catelyn saw him fight to keep his head above the surface, but none of these land people were very good swimmers. With one swish of her powerful, bright blue tail, she chased after him, keeping beneath the water and out of sight of the men shouting above. She grabbed him as he sank, and swam as rapidly as she could downstream, away from the men. When she thought she was far enough away to escape the other men’s eyes, she brought him to the surface and swam to the shore to lay him there at the river’s edge.

His beautiful eyes were closed, and he didn’t move. She feared him dead, but then put her head to his chest and heard the beat of his heart. She didn’t know what else to do for him. She called out, and when she heard footsteps running her way, she dove out of sight, but stayed to watch from the rushes.

“Brandon! Brandon!” a man’s voice called. The man who came running looked a lot like her grey-eyed love, but he was shorter and plainer of face. He shook the unconscious man who then began to cough and sputter.

“Ned . .” he choked out. “What happened? I . . .fell . . .and . . .there was a girl. She had red hair.”

The man called Ned shook his head. "Your horse threw you. I thought you were lost. Then I heard a shout.”

“Was it her? The red haired girl?”

 _Yes! Yes, it was me,_ Catelyn wanted to shout.

The man called Ned frowned. “It sounded like a woman, but . . .there is no woman here, Brandon. I saw no red haired girl.”

Catelyn very nearly swam right up to them then, but she felt hands on her arms and turned to see her sister’s terrified face. She couldn’t put Lysa in danger. Reluctantly, she swam away.

 _Brandon,_ she thought. _His name is Brandon._

Catelyn tried not to think about Brandon after that. She really did. She was a good girl, and except in swimming too close to the bank in order to look at the people, she had always done what her father asked of her. Yet, she found she could not stand the idea of never seeing him again. So, against all expectations anyone would ever have had of her, she found herself visiting the water witch.

“Human?” the witch asked her. “You would be human?”

Catelyn nodded, terrified but resolute. “Can it be done?”

“Yes,” the witch hissed, "but it will cost. You will give me your voice, and I will give you human form. However, child, you will only remain human if you can get a human man to truly love you and give you love’s first kiss by the moon’s next turn. Otherwise, you will die and become nothing but the mist that rises from the river.”

Catelyn shivered, but she agreed to the witch’s terms.

So it was that a beautiful red haired maiden was discovered near the banks of the Trident unclothed, mute, and looking very lost when the Stark brothers were returning from their visit to Harrenhall in the south.

“My gods!” Brandon Stark exclaimed, not quite believing his eyes when he saw the woman standing before him. “What, by all the gods, has happened to you, lass?”

The serious faced brother, Ned, simply dismounted from his horse, removed his own cloak, and covered her with it.

Brandon then dismounted as well. “Who are you, my lady? Have you been attacked?”

Catelyn shook her head. She wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t. She reached out to touch him, and he smiled at her. “Well, we can’t very well leave you here, can we?” he said, taking her hand. “Whoever you are, we’ll have to see you safe. Can you tell me your name at least?”

 _Catelyn._ But of course, she couldn’t tell him. She opened her mouth, and then simply shook her head again and tried not to cry.

His brother was looking at her carefully. “I don’t think she can speak, Brandon,” he said quietly. “Is that it, lass? You cannot speak?”

Gratefully, she nodded at him, and then looked back to her Brandon, pleading with her eyes that he might take her with him.

Brandon sighed. “Well, let’s find the young lady something more than Ned’s cloak to put on, boys, and I suppose we’ll take her to Winterfell. Perhaps we’ll meet someone who knows of her along the way.”

“Perhaps she’s your red-haired lass, Brandon,” Ned said. “We are near the river after all.”

But, unknown to Catelyn, Brandon had forgotten all about the red haired girl who’d pulled him from beneath the waves. His mind was full of a dark haired beauty he’d met at the tournament in Harrenhall, the Dornish beauty, Ashara Dayne, whom he’d asked to be his bride.

All during the long ride to the place they called Winterfell, Catelyn stayed as close as she could to her Brandon, and he was always kind and charming and tried to make her smile. She felt certain she must love him because of the way her heart sped up at his smile. She knew he found her pretty because he told her so.

Yet, it was his brother that made certain her sleeping pallet was laid out comfortably and that she had enough to eat at each meal. It was his brother who noticed the way Catelyn looked at Brandon.

When they reached the great castle Winterfell, Catelyn had never seen anything like it. She felt overwhelmed at the size of it and the number of people there. She felt even more overwhelmed when she realized she had only a week left to get Brandon Stark to kiss her. The journey here had taken almost all of her time.

She almost never saw Brandon, though, after their arrival. He asked that she be given a fine room and dresses to wear, and she sometimes saw him at meals, but throughout most of the day, he was off doing various things, and she was left to wander the castle on her own. Ned came to find her most days, and she was very grateful to him for keeping her from being completely alone. He took her around and told her about his home in that quiet, serious voice of his. On their fifth day there, he told her there would be a feast the next day to celebrate the arrival of an important guest. There would be food and singing and dancing.

 _Dancing,_ she thought. I have heard of dancing. _Brandon will hold me in his arms to dance, and surely he will kiss me then._

Catelyn was given a beautiful gown to wear to the feast, and one of the maids brushed and styled her hair. She had never felt so beautiful. When Brandon himself came to escort her to the Great Hall, she felt on top of the world.

“You look very beautiful tonight, my lady,” he told her with great courtesy. “I am sorry you were not able to meet our guests when they arrived, but I wish to introduce you now.” He smiled and looked so incredibly happy then as he looked at her, she thought her heart might burst with joy. They rounded a corner and he said, “Here she is, my lady.”

But he didn’t say that to Catelyn. He spoke to the most beautiful woman Catelyn had ever seen. She had long dark hair and violet eyes, and Brandon looked at her with adoration.

“Our little mystery girl,” the woman said, in a voice as lovely as her face. _I had a lovely voice once._ “You didn’t tell me how beautiful she was, Brandon,” she added with a smile at Catelyn.

“She is lovely, isn’t she? She’s almost certainly highborn, but she cannot speak or write, and we have heard no word of her from anyone. I don’t know if she even remembers where she came from,” Brandon said, offering his arm now to this dark haired beauty.

_I remember, Brandon. I remember everything._

“My lady,” Brandon said, now addressing her, “This is my betrothed, Ashara Dayne. She agrees that you must remain with us here at Winterfell as long as you have need of shelter.”

 _Betrothed._ His words were meant kindly, but they were cruel, so cruel. Catelyn could barely hold back the tears as she walked behind the two of them into the Great Hall, as she watched the two of them on the dance floor. Finally, she left the Great Hall and wandered into the godswood.

She felt a stranger here. The water in the pool before the great white tree was still and dark, so unlike the constantly moving waters of her river home. She watched mist rise off the pool in the moonlight and knew that by tomorrow night, she would be no more than that. Brandon Stark was charming. Brandon Stark was kind. And Brandon Stark did not love her.

Her tears fell silently down her cheeks, and she did not hear the man approach. She was unaware of him until he spoke.

“My lady, I am sorry for your grief.”

She looked up into the face of Ned Stark, pale in the moonlight shining through the branches of the trees.

“I would never have you sad, my lady, were it in my power to make you happy,” he said. “My brother never meant to hurt you,” he added softly.

She patted the ground beside her and when he sat down, she reached out to take his hands, her heart filled with gratitude toward this kind man who would not allow her to be alone on her last night. He didn’t know it was her last, but Catelyn was very grateful to him for being there with her.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

The quiet words, so seriously spoken, were quite unexpected, and Catelyn’s eyes widened in shock, and she moved her face closer to his to study it. Then, unexpectedly, he kissed her. It was a gentle, chaste sort of kiss, with his lips barely touching hers before he drew back and apologized.

Yet, she immediately felt very different. There was an odd flutter in her heart and she felt a tickle in her throat.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Ned asked her with concern. “I am so sorry if I gave you offense. I didn’t mean to . .I just . . .I wish I knew your name.”

“Catelyn,” she said, and suddenly realized she had spoken out loud.

Ned looked at her in wonder. “Catelyn,” he breathed.

Catelyn looked at the kind, quiet man who still held her hands. She saw the beauty in the smile which had transformed his solemn face at the sound of her name, and she suddenly understood. She was not to become mist on the river after all. Brandon Stark did not love her, but here in the godswood at Winterfell, she had found Love’s First Kiss after all.


End file.
